


Date Night

by MusicalLuna



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: And One of the Good Guys Gets Cut a Little, Double Dating, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, F/M, I Just Wanted to Upset Everybody, Id Fic, Knives, Misogyny, Mugging, POV Tony Stark, Protective Steve Rogers, Protective Tony Stark, The Bad Guy Gets Shot, Threats of Violence, Threats of sexual violence, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 02:22:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17993027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicalLuna/pseuds/MusicalLuna
Summary: Their double date is going great until it's not.





	Date Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [windscryer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/windscryer/gifts).



> i wrote this 10,000 years ago. id-fic ftw

“Tony,” Pepper says in a low murmur, leaning into his shoulder as the two of them step behind Steve and Darcy to make room for passersby as they wait in line for an ice cream from a little street cart in Columbus Circle.  
  
“Mhm?” Tony tilts his head to hear her better.  
  
Pepper looks up at him, eyes gleaming in the light from the streetlamps. Her hair is piled on top of her head in a messy heap of curls that's not as elegant as her event-ready looks, but that's because she did it herself and Tony likes this better than the perfection of those. “I'm not really the mood for ice cream,” she says.  
  
“What?” Tony says, his voice rising in dismay.  
  
“We had dessert at the restaurant,” she goes on and then glances down, threading her fingers through his. Then she rests her chin on his shoulder and says in a low, throaty voice, “But I'm ready for the 'hold hands and stroll through the moonlit park' portion of the evening.”  
  
A smile immediately starts to spread over Tony's face at her tone, then he registers the words, and he straightens. “You found the list.”  
  
“I found the list,” Pepper confirms and her eyes are crinkling at the corners with a held-back smile. “And it's very sweet, Tony, but really not necessary. Our regular dates are just fine.”  
  
Tony glances toward the back of Steve's head, which is ducked low to see under the awning of the little cart. Darcy has her arm wrapped around his elbow, and she's leaned over the edge, peering inside at the offerings. “No more double dates?”  
  
Pepper laughs gently and leans in again to whisper, “I prefer having you to myself.”  
  
“Thank God,” Tony says fervently. Then his eyes go wide, and he says, “Not that I'm not fond of Cap and the munchkin, I mean—”  
  
This time Pepper starts laughing at him in earnest, pressing her face into his shoulder.  
  
“Shut up,” he hisses, but he's doing it around his own laughter.  
  
“What's funny guys?” Darcy asks as she bounces back toward them, taking broad licks of the enormous cone of ice cream in her hand. The free one is clutching Steve's hauling him along behind her.  
  
“Oh, nothing,” Pepper says, the smile still thick in her voice and Tony bites back his own, turning his head to kiss her temple before looking up at them.  
  
“Everybody happy now?” he says.  
  
Steve blinks back at him and stops mid-lick. “You're not having any?”  
  
Tony reaches out and pats his arm. “Not all of us have your admirable appetite, kids.”  
  
“Ugh,” Darcy says, nose wrinkling. “Don't do that. We're not kids, jerkface.”  
  
“Mm, yes,” Tony says as they make a leisurely turn and start making their way into the park. “Sorry, my mistake. How could I possibly have come to that conclusion?”  
  
Darcy punches him in the arm and Tony flinches away. “Ow!”  
  
“Call me 'kid' again, and I'll start calling you old man, capiche?”  
  
Tony grimaces. “Yeah, yeah, all right, point taken, square deal.”  
  
It's beautiful out. In the good old days it'd have been risky at best to go for a stroll in Central Park after dark, even for superheroes, but these days it's not uncommon to find couples drifting between islands of light while joggers and dog-walkers pass by. Tonight it's cooling down from the heat of the day, which is perfect because it means Darcy and Pepper are leaning close seeking the warmth of their bodies and the moon is full overhead, so even the patches between the pools of light aren't black.  
  
They don't pay much attention to one another as they wind through the park, more absorbed in their own little pairs than their group, but Tony does catch glimpses of Steve collecting Darcy's cone wrapper and tucking it away in his pocket, only to shrug off his leather jacket a few minutes later to drape over her shoulders. Darcy looks smug and satisfied as she pulls it up around her chin and breathes it in.  
  
“You want my jacket, too, Pep?” he asks, brushing his nose along her cheekbone.  
  
Pepper snorts—delicately—and gives him a dry look. “Offering because you see someone else doing it really takes away some of the romance, Tony.”  
  
“Doesn't take away any of the heat-retaining properties of the jacket though,” he points out helpfully.  
  
Pepper concedes that much with a nod of her head and says, “Regardless, no thank you. I'd rather you just hold me a little closer.”  
  
Tony's eyebrows bounce up, and he curls his arm around her, tugging her against his chest. It makes walking extraordinarily difficult, but Steve and Darcy are barely moving, bodies turned in toward each other, hands in constant contact, so it's not really an issue.  
  
“This was a good thing you did tonight, Tony,” Pepper murmurs.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
She nods and leans her head into his jaw, the smell of her shampoo filling his nose. His fingers squeeze a little tighter around her waist. That's...yeah. That's good to know.  
  
Despite the snail-like pace of their walk, they do eventually make it to the other end of the park and Tony cranes his head around to catch Steve's eye. They've got plans—wildly, _wildly_ cheesy plans—to hire one of the horse-drawn carriages to take them back to the Tower. But Steve wants it to be a _surprise_ so: “Hey, Steve, can I confer with you for a second over here?”  
  
Tony waggles his fingers over at the curb and then nudges Pepper toward Darcy. “You two don't mind, do you? Just find a park bench, and we'll be back with you in a jiffy, 'kay?”  
  
Pepper gives him a look that says she knows they're up to something, but he just beams at her and shoos her along. Steve sidles over after laying a brief, chaste kiss on Darcy's lips. He looks flushed and pleased and a little cold, actually, he's got his hands stuffed deep into his pockets, but he doesn't seem to mind in the least.  
  
“This is really swell, Tony, thanks for going along with everything.”  
  
Tony shrugs and elbows him. “Two negatives make a positive, right? Our terrible dating powers combined equal the Perfect Date! Or something equally idiotic.” Steve's blissfully happy expression starts to sour and he waves his hand, “Fuck, sorry, no, not that this is idiotic, I mean, it's fun. Pepper and I are having _fun_ , I'm glad we're here. I'm glad we're, you know, doing this, together. With you and Darcy. I'm not good at all this...romance stuff.”  
  
“I dunno,” Steve says, glancing back over his shoulder as they carefully ease away from the girls, “Pepper seems pretty cozy with you. You're not giving yourself enough credit.”  
  
“Speaking of cozy,” Tony replies, rather than acknowledging that uncomfortable statement, and waggles his eyebrows.  
  
Steve flushes. “Too much?”  
  
Tony barks out a laugh. “Maybe in 1940. You two are disgustingly PG. Except for Darcy's wandering hands. I saw that ass-groping.” He can't help the way he grins when Steve turns even redder, though his expression is far more cat-that-got-the-canary than Tony expected from Captain Decency.  
  
“She likes these jeans,” Steve says primly.  
  
Tony's still laughing when they reach the first carriage at the curb's edge. Steve shells out for the four of them, and the money's just left his fingers when his head suddenly whips around, back going ram-rod straight, shoulders tensing.  
  
“Steve,” Tony says and then watches the color drain out of Steve's face.  
  
“Dammit,” Steve snarls, more vicious than anything Tony's ever heard come out of his mouth and then he hears Pepper shriek, high and thready with panic, “ _Tony!_ ”  
  
He and Steve break into a sprint.  
  
Back at the park bench, there are now five guys gathered around. One of them is bent over Pepper, his hand clamped over the lower half of her face. His fingers dig deep into her cheeks.  
  
Pepper looks horrified, leaning back into Darcy's shoulder, her purse clutched to her chest.  
  
“Dude, you do _not_ know who you're messing with,” Darcy is saying. Her voice is shaking slightly, and she's pressed up against Pepper's side. She's cradling her right wrist. Her purse is lying on the ground, contents spilled in an arc like it was ripped out of her hands. Tony can see the small black taser she was probably going for. His blood seethes, anger striking him between the eyes like a physical blow.  
  
“Oh, really?” one of the men replies mockingly. It's the guy with his hands on Pepper.  
  
“Yeah, really,” Tony snarls and Steve's outstretched arm hits him across the chest. All five of the thugs look up. The one with his hands on Pepper releases her.  
  
“Please leave them alone,” Steve says, voice calm, but hard as adamantium.  
  
One of the thugs lets out a blurt of surprised laughter. “Who the fuck are you?” another demands.  
  
Tony ignores them in favor of speaking to Pepper. She's gingerly touching her jaw, white-knuckled fingers curled around Darcy's. “Pep, just give us a sec to deal with the trash and we'll be on our way, all right?”  
  
Pepper gives a tight nod. “Okay, Tony.”  
  
“I asked you,” Steve is repeating, “to leave them alone.” He's now practically nose to nose with the tallest of the five. Tony's not sure why Steve hasn't knocked him on his ass already until he sees something glint in the hand of the lackey still standing over their dates. His heart skips a beat.  
  
A goddamn switchblade.  
  
“'ey, 'ey,” one of the middle ones says urgently as the tall guy is opening his mouth to sneer a reply. “That's Tony fuckin' _Stark_ , man.”  
  
“Naw,” the guy next to him says, then: “Shit, I think you're right.”  
  
“Yeah, he's fucking right,” Tony snaps, “Now get the fuck away from the ladies unless you'd like to spend the rest of your natural lives in hell.”  
  
“Mikey!” the tall one barks and makes a sharp gesture with one hand.  
  
The guy by the bench immediately grabs Darcy by the arm and hauls her to her feet. A tiny, frantic whimper slips from Darcy's throat just before the blade touches her skin.  
  
“Let. Her. _Go_ ,” Steve growls, and this time it's Tony reaching out to restrain him. The one step forward he manages is enough to make the guy automatically press down into Darcy's skin. She whimpers again, tears building up in her eyes, and Steve takes a breath that shudders through his whole body. His voice softens and gentles. “It's okay, it's okay, Darcy, you're going to be okay, you understand me?”  
  
“Duh,” Darcy chokes in reply, and she rolls her eyes as the tears bubble over her lids.  
  
Tony watches with mounting dread as Pepper inches over on the bench, her eyes focused on the thug with the knife, but before he can do much more than shake his head, the tall guy says, “Randy, get the other one.”  
  
“Don't you fucking _dare_ —” Tony starts, his voice rising.  
  
Pepper flinches back and then yelps as she, too, is dragged to her feet. “Don't, stop, please, just take the bags and go,” she begs, and Tony wants to tear each of them limb from limb for making her do it.  
  
“Baby, why would we take the bags when we've got you and Tony Stark here, ready to do whatever he has to to make sure we don't get a little rough with you? Accidentally of course,” Randy says, and glances over at Tony, his eyes laughing.  
  
“You son of a bitch—”  
  
Tony makes one move forward, and the tall one says, “Ah, ah, ah, bro,” and Randy grabs hold of Pepper by the throat, lifting until she's standing on her toes, her eyelashes fluttering as she tries to stifle the little distressed noises forming behind his hand.  
  
Tony freezes. “You _son of a bitch_ ,” he breathes. “You son of a bitch, I swear to God. Do you know what I _do_ in my spare time? Are you sure you've heard of me? Because if you did, you'd know that putting your hands on her is the _last_ fucking thing you'll ever do.”  
  
Tall narrows his eyes. “Iron Man, whoop de doo. Big metal suit's doin' you a lot of good right now, ain't it old man?”  
  
Helpless, molten rage swells in his chest, pushing at the casing of the arc reactor like it's going to push it out and Tony clenches his hands until the joints ache. “What do you want?” he grits.  
  
“Tony,” Steve says, his voice sharp, and Tony ignores him.  
  
The leader tilts his head to the side, sizing Tony up, and then his eyes flick to the side, to where Steve stands. “Your friend and his girl. Who are they?”  
  
“Wow, you really are stupid,” Tony says, unthinking.  
  
A scowl sweeps over Tall's face, and he glares at Steve like it's his fault. Then he wheels around and stalks to where Mikey is holding Darcy still and snatches the switchblade out of his hand. He slashes it down, dragging a sharp, terrified cry out of Darcy.  
  
“ _Darcy!_ ” Steve shouts, face blanching.  
  
“Jesus, what the _fuck_ ,” Tony snarls and his heart slams against his rib cage. If they hurt her, he's never going to forgive himself.  
  
But when Tall turns back toward them, his expression dark, the blade is flicking at the slashed open front of Darcy's dress, the fabric fluttering precariously close to indecency. Tony can't see any blood, but a movement that quick, that rough, that close to her skin, there's no way he didn't at least nick her. Darcy looks furious and terrified, tears pouring down her cheeks in silvery streaks.  
  
“Pretty girl,” Tall says and lets his eyes rake over the slit in Darcy's dress, the knife lifting the edges so he can get a better look at her breasts. Steve makes a low rumbling noise that sets the hairs on the back of Tony's neck on end. “Why don't you tell me who you are now, motherfucker, or I'll see if I can find the information on her person somewhere, huh?”  
  
“H-he's Captain Fucking America, you a-asshole,” Darcy replies. Tall wheels around before she's even finished speaking, and the last word ends on a yelp as he grabs hold of her face, fingers digging into her jaw.  
  
“Did I _ask_ you, bitch?”  
  
Steve lurches forward and smashes a fist into the nearest guy's solar plexus. He goes down in a crumpled heap, and Tony is right on Steve's heels with his fists rising to do similar when Pepper lets out a wailing cry and they both freeze.  
  
“Please,” she sobs, and icy shards break off inside his chest, “please, don't do this.” Randy's hand is in her hair, pulling it back, so her head is bent back at an almost ninety-degree angle. The tension looks excruciating.  
  
“Jason, you a'ight?” Tall asks, cool and calm while he stares at Tony.  
  
The guy on the ground whimpers and Steve says stiffly, “His sternum's probably cracked.” A muscle in his cheek jumps.  
  
The fourth guy, who still hasn't spoken, finally breaks his silence, shaking his head, face shining with sweat. “Uh uh, I'm out, I'm out this is too much. Not these guys, man, you're crazy.” He slowly backs away, still shaking his head, and then breaks into a run, disappearing into the dark.  
  
“What do you want, fucker,” Tony asks Tall in a low, silky voice. “Whatever it is, I'll give it to you, but you had better have a plan to wipe yourself off the fucking map, asshole because I am going to find you, wherever you go, whatever you do. No matter how safe you think you are, how good you covered your tracks. I am going to hunt. You. Down.”  
  
“He won't be alone, either,” Steve says.  
  
Tall sneers. “Captain America doesn't commit murder.”  
  
Steve stares at him. “Son, I was in the Great War. You don't know the half of what I've done.”  
  
“Two-hundred and fifty million,” Tall says and Tony snaps, “Done,” the instant the words have left his mouth. It doesn't matter what he's said, Tony could care less. He could ask for the moon, for his own suit, it doesn't fucking matter. “Let them go.”  
  
“Money first, girls later,” Tall says, waggling the blade at Tony like he's been a naughty child. To Tony's left, Steve shifts suddenly, his back straightening.  
  
“Stay still, all right, Darcy? Don't move. Everything's going to be okay.”  
  
Darcy whimpers faintly and nods. “Okay.”  
  
“Hey,” Tall snaps, irritated by their lack of attention, but Tony isn't listening because he finally hears what Steve is. The sound of sirens swells in a hurry and by the time the thugs cotton on, the cars are bursting through the trees, hopping the curb to swing around behind them. Tony has never been so fiercely thrilled to see the NYPD. Within seconds, doors are being flung open, and officers from all around them are pointing guns and shouting at them to raise their hands. To Tony's relief, that's about all Randy can take and he releases Pepper, hands flying to cover the back of his head as he all but hurls himself down on the ground. Pepper stumbles and Tony lunges for her, dragging her heedlessly away from the others. She immediately latches onto his waist beneath his jacket, fingers digging in. “Tony, Tony, oh my god, Tony.”  
  
“Shh, shh, I've got you, it's all right, you're all right,” he breathes, stroking her hair.  
  
“Darcy,” Pepper says, and Tony grips her tight against him, keeps her from turning around because Tall has the knife at Darcy's throat again, blood trickling from where it's digging into her skin.  
  
Then there's a crack like thunder and Tony flinches, Pepper gasping into his shoulder.   
  
Tall topples forward, and Darcy lets out a horrible, wrenching noise, immediately followed by the sound of her retching between sobs. The other two remaining thugs make high-pitched noises of desperate panic and follow their other buddy's lead and throw themselves down on the ground.  
  
Just like that, it's over.  
  
The cops rush forward, manhandling the three remaining thugs, and checking to be sure Tall is down for sure. Tony waits until he hears them declare it, then he tunes everything else out, cupping Pepper's face in his hands and kissing her, his hands shaking with adrenaline. “Pepper, Pepper, Jesus, Pepper, God,” he murmurs, an endless litany as he presses gentle kisses to her cheeks, nose, and forehead, stroking her loosened hair, pushing it back behind her ears. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, that _fucker_.”  
  
Pepper wraps her arms around his neck, buries her face in his shoulder and cries.  
  
Tony cradles her close, breathing reassurances in her ear and apologizing over and over again. He's angry that this happened, that a group of stupid thugs got the drop on them, that they were so easily reduced to helplessness. He hates that he couldn't stop them from being hurt. Pepper's neck is ringed in red smudges, but when he glances over to where Steve is wrapped around Darcy, one hand gingerly holding her dress closed, he can make out smudges of red at her throat that make his insides shudder.  
  
It doesn't take long for Pepper to burn out the tears and panic. They're not really her MO, and she carefully wipes her face on his jacket before looking up at him. “Is Darcy okay?” she asks in a wobbling voice.  
  
“I don't know,” he tells her, “I think so. I mean, you know. Considering. Hey, Steve?”  
  
He cranes his neck to look over at them, curling his hand around the base of Pepper's skull and gently pressing her head into the curve of his throat. She sinks into him, accepting his offer of comfort.  
  
Steve murmurs something to Darcy and kisses her temple before looking up at Tony.  
  
“How's she doing?” Tony asks, his stomach flopping over uncomfortably.  
  
The grim expression on Steve's face doesn't reassure him.  
  
“S-she's gonna have fucking _nightmares_ ,” Darcy croaks, “but she's f-fine.”  
  
“Oh, Darcy,” Pepper says. A strangled sort of laugh bubbles out of Darcy's throat then melts and distorts until she's sobbing into Steve's shoulder. His expression turns pained, and he pulls her closer, sheltering her with the bulk of his shoulders.  
  
“Sir?”  
  
Tony turns to find an officer looking down at them, her expression wary and hard. The moment her eyes land on his face, they widen, her expression softening to surprise. “Oh— Mister Stark.” She recovers impressively quick, her professional mask sliding back on and she glances at the four of them, says: “Is anyone hurt?”  
  
“Just my pride,” Pepper says dryly, and Tony points to the other two.  
  
“Her. Hey, Darcy, honey, you wanna let the officer check out your neck?”  
  
Darcy shakes her head, and Steve strokes her hair. “I think she'd rather go home and see Bruce.”  
  
“We're going to need statements from all of you—” the officer starts and Tony waves her off.  
  
“Give us a ride back to Avengers Tower, we'll send written statements in the morning.”  
  
Her mouth drops open, her brow furrowing. “Sir, I don't really—”  
  
“Look, it's not up for discussion,” Tony says. “You can give us a ride, or I can call my driver, but we're going home, now. These assholes were waving around weapons in a public park. I'm sure there's something you can charge them with until we get around to giving you a statement, which we will, because if I have anything to do with it, these sons of bitches are never going to see light again, understand?”  
  
He expects to hear remonstration from Steve because after an outburst like that is usually when they come, but all he hears is the soft sound of Steve shifting his weight as he lifts Darcy off the ground.  
  
The officer blinks at him for a second and then sighs and pulls her radio to her mouth. “Unit Twelve, I'm sending Stark and the Captain to you, take them home.”  
  
“Thank you,” Tony says, and Steve echoes it softly.   
  
They are never doing this romantic bullshit again.


End file.
